


Lather, Rinse, Repeat

by misura



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Crack, Hair Washing, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 19:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18146390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Yamamoto washes Squalo's hair.





	Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Right here, right now, Squalo thought he might almost admit that Takeshi Yamamoto had an incredible, God-given talent. For washing Squalo's hair, that was. Not for sword-fighting, about which the less said, the better, as far as Squalo was concerned.

"Smells pretty nice," Yamamoto said.

"Ugh," said Squalo. He'd bought the stuff based on a TV-ad in which some idiot had run around shooting people while wearing a costume and then removed his helmet as he got home to his adoring girlfriend, revealing perfectly clean hair.

(Needless to say, that was before he'd watched a near-identical commercial to promote instant noodles, the only difference being the last five seconds. Japanese people, Squalo'd concluded, were _weird_.)

"Like flowers, but not like flowers, if that makes sense?" Yamamoto chuckled. He'd taken off his shirt, which was sensible and no reason whatsoever for Squalo to entertain any ideas about trying to start something that couldn't possibly end well.

"About as much as anything you say," Squalo said. His problem, as he viewed it, was that he couldn't insult Yamamoto too much right now. Squalo's hair wasn't going to wash itself, and its length made doing it by himself a pain.

Yamamoto had offered to help, and Squalo'd been too stunned to refuse, and now here they were.

"C'mon, smell." A purple bottle was thrust under his nose.

Squalo sniffed warily, longing for the days when the people who'd washed his hair had been too afraid for their lives to make him smell things. True, there'd been a few draw-backs to the arrangement, but all things considered, it had worked for him just fine.

"Well?" Yamamoto was standing way too close to the bath tub, Squalo decided. Like he was _daring_ Squalo to make a grab for him, which Squalo wasn't going to do, no matter how tempting it was, because -

Squalo frowned, momentarily losing track of his thoughts. That stupid shampoo, he decided. It really did smell like flowers. Kind of. All right, so it didn't smell like flowers at all. There. Matter settled.

"If I'm going to get in there with you, I really should take off my pants," Yamamoto said. He sounded a bit dreamy, as well as alarmingly attractive.

"You get in here, there's going to be blood," said Squalo. He meant it to be a threat. It _was_ a threat, and a serious one, too. Squalo never joked about his hair care. "You're here to wash my hair, not - "

Yamamoto had taken off his pants. Squalo decided he was not impressed, and even less turned on.

"Mhm." Yamamoto smiled, probably because he imagined Squalo might actually find him sexy. "So this blood you mentioned, is it going to be yours or mine?"

The bath tub really hadn't been made for this type of situations. Squalo felt he ought to do the mature, responsible thing here: push Yamamoto away from him, get out of the bath tub himself, and then suggest they find a comfortable bed where he'd be happy to screw Yamamoto's brains out. Assuming Yamamoto had any, which Squalo was becoming less convinced of by the second.

"What?" he said, a bit late, but then, a naked Yamamoto pressed up against him was a bit of a distraction.

"Your hair smells nice," said Yamamoto.

Squalo felt Yamamoto should perhaps spend less time sniffing his hair and more time getting on with things. They were both naked, after all, and unless Yamamoto had brought a weapon of some sort into the water with him, he had a pretty good idea of what he wanted.

Granted, it might not be the same thing Squalo wanted, although the reason for that escaped Squalo for the moment. It couldn't be that Yamamoto was an idiot, he didn't think. Squalo had had sex with plenty of idiots. It was practically a requirement: smart people tended to either send a lot of people to try to kill him or refused to put themselves in a position where he might kill them.

"You're supposed to be washing it, not smelling it," Squalo said. His body appeared to have its own idea of what to do, which boilt down to making the most of this opportunity for some physical contact.

Yamamoto moaned softly. Squalo thought angry thoughts.

"I can wash it again later," offered Yamamoto, as if some of Squalo's mood had actually gotten through to him. "I like washing your hair. It's fun, to see you relax for once."

Squalo did not feel very relaxed this very moment. He rather doubted that turning around and really giving Yamamoto something to moan about would help. He might feel _better_ , yes - in fact, he'd probably feel fantastic, but relaxed?

Yamamoto kissed the back of his neck.

Squalo decided that enough was enough. Besides, Yamamoto had a point: washing his hair could wait. Having sex with Yamamoto in a place where neither of them would risk drowning could not.

"You can either get out of the bath tub and show me where the nearest bedroom is, or I can carry you and find it for myself."

Yamamoto beamed. He'd gotten some of the shampoo on him, as a result of which he now smelled like flowers and not like flowers at the same time. "My room's right this way."

Squalo wondered why he felt so convinced that he was going to regret this.

 

He remembered why in the morning, with Yamamoto smiling at him, happy as a clam.

"Last night was fun! We should do that again some time."

Squalo could live with 'some time'. Say, in another ten, twenty years - although that was assuming Yamamoto would survive that long, which seemed unlikely. So 'never' would be more like it.

Squalo could live with 'never', too. After all, it wasn't as if he'd gone and caught feelings. It was just sex. He'd gotten it out of his system and now he was back to normal.

"Maybe tonight?" Yamamoto asked. His expression was hopeful. "Or right now? Shower's big enough for two."

Squalo wondered how Yamamoto knew that, and whether or not he felt petty enough to hunt them down and kill them. Then he came back to his senses and realized there were more important things in life.

"Fine," he said. "Shower now, then tonight, you can wash my hair. And no funny business this time. I don't care how much you think that shampoo smells like flowers."

"Sure thing!" Yamamoto smiled.

Squalo wanted to kill him, but necrophilia wasn't his thing, so he decided to wait for a better time.


End file.
